What a Coincidence
by nestofdreams
Summary: What do runaway felines and reservation mix-ups have in common? They bring two extremely similar couples together, that's what.


Disclaimer: As much as I adore these boys, they are not mine. They belong to the lovely ladies, Rainbow Rowell and J. K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Simon was late and Baz was going to _kill_ him.

For once, though, it wasn't his fault. It was Penelope's fault. Or more specifically, the bloody Mau cat she'd insisted on buying.

Pharaoh – so named for his Egyptian heritage and proud nature – had apparently decided that Penny visiting Micah in America gave him the perfect chance to finally make a run for it. The moment Simon had opened the door to their apartment that night, Pharaoh had shot out like an arrow, sprinting down the hall and into the open lift along with the lady who lived across the hall.

At first Simon had just stood there in shock, staring at the cat's smug face as the lift door closed. When he finally realised that things had gone batshit, he'd done some sprinting of his own, racing down the stairs in the hopes of reaching the lobby before Pharaoh did. As it were, he _had _reached the lobby before Pharaoh but that still hadn't stopped the cat from making his escape into the streets.

It had taken Simon almost two hours to find him and by the time he finally dropped the stupid creature in Penny's room and slammed the door in his striped face, he was already dreading what Baz was going to say. He usually made exceptions for Simon's tardiness but today was a monthiversary, and for all Baz' cool ways, he was a total sap when it came right down to it.

Simon straightened his tie as he finally stepped out of his building, the cool night air making him feel a little better. Baz had chosen some swanky restaurant for today's monthiversary and it had given Simon a chance to finally wear the posh suit Baz had picked out for him, five monthiversaries ago. He wasn't all that fond of fancy clothes, but Baz had been wanting to try this particular restaurant for months and Simon supposed he could handle dressing up for a single night as long as it made his boyfriend happy.

He crossed the road and waited impatiently for a taxi, glancing at his watch. It was already half an hour past their reservation time and the taxi ride was sure to be another half hour at best. Thankfully, a taxi happened along just then and he stuck out a hand to hail it. It slowed down a few yards away and he hurried over. However, as he reached the door, another bloke already had his hand on it.

Simon did _not_ have time for this.

Plastering on the brightest, fakest smile he could, Simon addressed the taxi thief. "Sorry, mate, but that's my taxi."

The other man turned and brilliant green eyes stared back at him through round glasses. He looked apologetic but there was also a stubborn jut to his chin, and Simon inwardly sighed. It seems he had a fighter here. _Fucking_ _brilliant_.

"I really need this taxi. Sorry, but could you take another one?"

Simon grit his teeth. "Well, I 'really need this taxi' too. I'm meeting someone and I'm already very late."

Green Eyes frowned. "I'm late too. _Very_ late, in fact. Late to meet my _boyfriend_," he emphasised as if dealing a final blow. Simon guessed he was either vying for sympathy or hoping to shock him into submission. Unfortunately for Green Eyes, with his own irritated boyfriend waiting, Simon wasn't exactly in a benevolent mood.

"What a coincidence! I'm meeting my boyfriend _too_."

Green Eyes blinked and then abruptly began to laugh, and that was all it took for Simon to instantly like him, taxi thieving and all.

"Typical that I'd run into another poor bloke, walking to the proverbial gallows," Green Eyes said with a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm assuming your boyfriend is high maintenance as well?"

"That's one way to describe him," Simon replied with a laugh of his own.

"Is someone getting in or not?" the taxi driver suddenly joined in, irritation colouring his voice. "Or should I look for another hire?"

"Hold on a tick," Green Eyes told him, and Simon had to hand it to him, he really knew how to turn on the puppy eyes. The driver subsided with a grumble but otherwise didn't make any more fuss.

"A compromise?" Simon asked, hoping they could come to a decision soon.

Green Eyes bit his lip. "I'm supposed to meet him at _The_ _Prestige_."

Simon could have danced a jig at that. "Brilliant! I'm meeting my boyfriend there too!"

They piled into the taxi with mutual whoops and the driver gave a '_bloody finally!_' before manoeuvring back onto the road.

Simon held out his hand. "I'm Simon Snow, by the way."

His new friend smiled and gave his hand a firm shake. "Nice to meet you, Simon. I'm Harry Potter."

* * *

Baz checked his pocket watch for what had to be the hundredth time and bit his tongue to stop himself from cursing loudly and foully. Just because his careless boyfriend was fifteen minutes late, did not mean he was going to have himself kicked out after months of reservations to get a table. He was sure Simon would be along any minute now. He _knew_ how much these monthiversaries meant to Baz.

He took a sip of water, wondering if he should just go along and order while he waited. Simon wasn't likely to order for himself anyways, unfamiliar with the fancy dishes, but then again, Baz didn't know if he _would_ come soon, and he didn't want to order and have the food go cold. Perhaps he'd order a bottle of wine instead, to keep him company.

He was just about signal the maître d' when he heard a muttered, "_Bloody typical,_" behind him and turned to find an irritated looking blonde standing there, mouth set in a grim line.

"That's my table," he said blandly.

Baz raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

Blondie crossed his arms with a huff. "You heard me. Table 12. _My _table."

Baz gave him a sardonic smile. "I'm sorry, but you must be mistaken. This table happens to be _mine._ Booked months_ in advance_."

"How droll," Blondie replied with – Baz had to admit – a perfect sneer. "The restaurant had informed me that _my_ reservation, booked 'months in advance', had finally produced a table. This particular table, in fact."

"Well obviously, the restaurant has made some sort of mistake," Baz said.

"Obviously," Blondie drawled.

"I suppose we'll have to see who made their reservation first then," Baz suggested after a pause. "Whoever it is will get the table."

Blondie gave a curt nod. "Seems to be the only option."

Baz stood up and followed him to the front desk where the snobbish manager condescendingly asked if there was a problem. Blondie gave him a chilling glare and that was all it took for Baz to instantly like him, reservation mix up and all.

In short, effectively sharp sentences, Blondie explained their predicament and soon the – now flustered and stammering – manager had pulled up the restaurant database. As luck, or rather _bad-_luck would have it, it turned out that they'd both made the reservation on the same day. Of all the coincidences.

"And you do not record the time in which reservations are made?" Blondie demanded in an almost threatening manner. Baz wondered if the manager had soiled himself yet.

"N-no sir," he squeaked. "As your reservations were made q-quite some time ago, we only have the d-dates recorded."

Baz sighed. "Is there any way for you to get another table for one of us?"

The manager looked on the verge of tears as he shook his head. "We are all b-booked up."

Baz gave another sigh at that and Blondie echoed it. Without another word, they made their way back to the table and sat down.

"A compromise is required," Blondie announced.

Baz' eyes narrowed. "In all sense, _I _should be the one to get the table. I came here first, after all."

Blondie stiffened, apparently seeing the sense in this. "That_ is_ true…" he finally said slowly, his mouth pursed as if he'd swallowed a lemon. "Are you waiting for your girlfriend?"

The abrupt question made Baz give a startled laugh. "Boyfriend, actually." He eyed Blondie cautiously, wondering if he would take offense. Surprisingly, Blondie smiled at Baz' answer and his face instantly went from foreboding to something that could only be called angelic. His eyes seemed to simply light up and Baz saw that they were the exact colour of his own.

"I'm waiting for my boyfriend as well," Blondie admitted almost shyly, and Baz wondered where the cool figure from before had gone. "It's actually our first monthiversary."

Baz gaped. "You celebrate monthiversaries too?"

His new friend nodded. "Harry called me a sapwhen I first suggested it, but I liked the idea. I was surprised when he managed to land this place. _Especially_ seeing as how we hadn't even been dating when he'd booked the reservation."

Baz smirked. "Confident, wasn't he?"

Blondie smirked right back. "That's one way to describe him."

"Since this is your first, I don't mind cancelling," Baz said after a moment. "I'm sure the restaurant will provide some sort of compensation."

Blondie blinked slowly. "No, I can't make you do that. I mean it's so difficult to get a table at this bloody place in the first place. I don't mind sharing actually, and I'm sure Harry won't mind either. It might be interesting."

Baz considered this. "If you really don't mind, I'm fine with it as well, and I'm sure Simon will be too."

Blondie took out his pocket watch and glanced at it. "Harry's already almost a half hour late."

"Simon too," Baz sighed. "Shall we have a drink while we wait? In honour of putting up with tardy boyfriends."

"Smashing idea," Blondie agreed with an appreciative nod as he signalled a maître d' to come over. Once they'd placed their order, Baz held out his hand.

"I didn't introduce myself before. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, at your service. Baz, if you please."

His new friend took his hand and gave it a firm shake. "And people say that _I _have an unusual name. I'm Draco Lucius Malfoy."

* * *

When Simon finally walked into the restaurant with Harry, they were already an hour late and hadn't received a single call or text from either of their boyfriends. _Certainly_ not a good sign, if you asked him, but they were here now and Simon just hoped that Baz wasn't too upset. He went up to the front desk to check on his table but when he found out that their reservation was for table number 12, he gave a confused frown and turned to Harry who was waiting patiently near the entrance to the dining area.

"Harry, what was your table number again?" Simon asked.

"Number 12, why?"

Simon's frown deepened at his reply. "Er, for some reason we seem to have the same reservation."

Harry blinked. "That's weird… Maybe we should just go in and find Draco and Baz. There's obviously been some sort of a mix up."

Simon nodded in agreement and together they walked into the dining area. Almost immediately Simon caught sight of Baz, seated at a table cosily tucked away in a corner. What made Simon catch his breath, however, was the pretty blonde seated next to him, delicately sipping at his wine. Baz leant closer and seemed to murmur something practically in the other man's ear, and Simon felt a flare of anger at their close proximity and the blinding smile the man gifted Baz with.

When he turned to Harry, he found him glaring daggers at the very table Simon had been watching, and almost instantly the anger melted away. He let out a huff of laughter, nudging his new friend until he finally looked at him.

"I'm going to assume the blonde seated next to Baz is Draco," Simon said ruefully, and Harry immediately lost his frown, letting out a sigh of relief.

"So that's Baz then," Harry laughed, already manoeuvring towards the pair. "For a moment there I actually felt threatened."

They finally reached their table and both its occupants looked up with eyes that could only be likened to cold steel. It was rather unnerving actually, and Simon felt Harry stiffen beside him, obviously feeling as wary as he did.

"You're late," Baz and Draco said at the same time, words clipped and spat out like bullets. Simon was caught off guard by how alike the two were; it was almost like being faced with _two_ angry Baz' and if that wasn't the stuff of nightmares, he didn't know what was.

"Sit down," Draco snapped, and Simon found himself obeying along with Harry, taking the seat next to him so that he was facing his own irate boyfriend.

"How do you two know each other?" Baz was the one who asked this, glancing between them suspiciously.

Simon cleared his throat. "We sort of hailed the same taxi and then ended up sharing," he explained and Harry gave a nod of affirmation.

"Care to explain why you are both so shamelessly late?" Baz asked after having some sort of telepathic conversation with Draco using only their eyes.

"Baz, please, I'm sor–"

"Draco, I'm so sor–"

Draco silenced them both with a raised hand. "Yes, yes, we know you must be simply rolling in apologies, but I believe Baz enquired as to _why_ you were late, not how you _feel_ about being late."

That almost made Simon smile. Draco could apparently use verbal daggers as effectively as Baz could. Harry raised a hand hesitantly.

"Er, if I could speak for the both of us, it's because we had to deal with feline escape artists."

It took a while for them to explain what Harry meant by this, but eventually some of the tension left Baz and Draco's shoulders. They shared another silent conversation and then finally gave small smiles.

"We've decided to forgive you just this once," Draco said with a small nod. "But don't expect us to be this lenient next time," he added warningly, crossing his arms. "You should be grateful for the reservation mix up. If it wasn't for us keeping each other company while we waited, we might not have been as willing to pardon your tardiness."

Baz hummed in agreement. "Since you both seem to already be friends, I'll assume neither of you will mind sharing this table. Draco and I were hitting it off rather nicely before you turned up and we'd like to finish our conversation, if you don't mind. We already ordered as well, so food should be here in a moment."

Simon suddenly felt uneasy, taking in the identical glints in both Baz and Draco's eyes.

"What were you two talking about just now?" he asked warily, not comforted at all when they both smirked.

"Oh, Draco was just telling me about his sixth year," Baz said with faux innocence, and Harry gave a startled yelp, blushing furiously.

"Draco!"

Draco laughed and reached across the table to pat Harry's hand comfortingly. "Don't worry, love. It seems you're not the only one with a penchant for stalking. Apparently Baz and Simon shared a similar sixth year to ours."

Simon turned to Baz in horror. "You promised never to bring that up!"

Baz shrugged. "So you both stalked us for a whole year; it's nothing to be ashamed of. I love you in spite of your obsessive tendencies and I'm sure Draco feels the same way about Harry."

Simon buried his head in his hands and he heard Harry give a low groan of anguish beside him.

"Draco, I really must tell you about the last time Simon and I visited the zoo."

"Well, after you're done, remind me to tell you about when Harry and I went to Paris."

Harry groaned again and when Simon glanced at him he looked about ready to stab himself with a fork. Simon leant towards him as their boyfriends continued to exchange embarrassing stories like the creatures of evil that they so obviously were.

"You know, I do love Baz," Simon said in a hushed tone. "But I also always figured he was the Devil incarnate. I never thought there might be _another_ one."

Harry gave a rueful smile. "You and me both, mate."

_Fin_


End file.
